


Hi Honey!

by kremissius



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:31:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kremissius/pseuds/kremissius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's hard to live alone in a post-apocalyptic world, especially when the only souvenir of your husband is his last recording.</p><p>------</p><p>I had a lot of feelings about Nate and my Sole Survivor, so here's a little something about how she feels about her holotape (and how I felt when I heard it too tbh)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hi Honey!

She listens to it; she listens to it so much that it hurts, and the sound of his voice rings to her ears, a dreadful symphony.

She’s in a rusty bathtub –their bathtub, where they used to spend long hours together, Nate’s long legs taking all the space, and she complaining until finally he would push her body against his chest, closer, always closer. The bathtub feels too large for one person, now that there’s only her huddled up in it, her body shaking slightly. Perhaps it’s the cold that causes the tremor of her hand, as she raises it once more to play the message.

 

The nights are cold at Sanctuary, and Keira has still trouble dealing with it. No matter how many blankets Codsworth finds lying around, she’s always cold —it’s not the electric warmth of the radiator that she misses, but the heat of her husband’s body.

He used to take all the space in their bed, she remembers, softly snoring, his arm on her lower back even sleeping. He used to take all the space –now she feels so empty.

 

“Play”. She pushes the button. “Play”, “play”, “play”. She pushes it a thousand times, hoping perhaps to find a hidden message behind Shaun’s giggles, Nate’s voice. The glowing screen becomes more and more blurry as tears roll down her cheeks, so hot she feels her skin burning, melting —there will be nothing left of her.

It used to be that Nate’s voice gave her strength. Now it only makes her sob, her body terribly fragile as she presses her forehead with her fists like it’s about to explode, her breathing reduced to a multitude of pathetic gasps.

 

Keira never cried. It was a joke between her and Nate before, when everything was clear and beautiful, when all she could hope for was a bath at the end of a long day, Nate’s kisses all over her skin, the brightness of Shaun’s eyes. When everything was simple and he was just trying to make her cry by playing dead —he’d always been so silly.

 

She takes a long inspiration while her husband’s voice resonates with a chuckle. Trembling, she wipes out the stains of makeup from her cheeks, grasps the edge of the bathtub.

“Everything we do, no matter how hard, we do it for our family.”

She stands up, her legs still weak, and gets out of the tub. The mirror is still hung to the wall, although broken in numerous pieces, and Keira tries to puts in order her hair, brings her lipstick out of her jacket pocket. A few minutes later, it almost seems like a normal day.

“Bye, honey. We love you.”

The woman steps out of the ruins of what was onceher house, and nothing gives any hint about what just happened —except maybe her clenched fists, their almost invisible shudder.

 

“Mum, are you alright?” the familiar voice asks, always so collected.

 She makes a slight smile, absent-mindedly puts a hand in her hair.

“Yes, Codsworth, thanks. It… just smells too much of corpses in the house.”


End file.
